


Oracle

by Cinnamonbookworm



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, gambling au, season 1 rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamonbookworm/pseuds/Cinnamonbookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Felicity Smoak has always seen herself as an upstanding member of society. Okay, there was the hacking, but other than </i><b>that</b><i>... and then there was the gambling.<i></i></i><br/><i></i>She was quite the urban legend. And no one ever suspected adorkable Felicity Smoak of being the woman who single-handedly brought down a quite prominent member of the Chinese triad in a game of blackjack and a few keyboard strokes."<i></i><br/>When Oliver loses a flash drive that might compromise his identity while on a mission, he goes to one person he trusts and one he doesn't; Felicity Smoak and the Oracle, little does he know, they are the same person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Girls Do Bad Things Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> _My friend and I came up with an AU idea if you are up for it. It's my first time in Vegas and I just gambled all of my money away you have to help me get I back AU ft. Olicity. Haven't seen this done before but I would like to and lack all necessary writing skills. ___
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _So I took some liberties with this au, because I couldn’t think of a good way to do it in Vegas, so I hope you enjoy an adventure into the illegal gambling syndicate of Starling City. Also, Felicity’s backstory has been embellished a bit, and Oliver is not as in love with Laurel Lance as he should be, because this is an Olicity season 1 AU, and I can’t have that. Also, Thea is already dating Roy, because I couldn’t have this story without him._
> 
>  
> 
> _I give you Oracle._

Felicity Smoak has always seen herself as an upstanding member of society, and if you asked anyone who knew her, they would tell you the same. She’d never been arrested, never been charged with anything too serious; donated to her favorite charity once a year, and always spared a few dollars for the homeless man who lived around the corner from her apartment building.

Sure, there had been a few times she’d littered, and occasionally she got a speeding ticket (but that was only because of that _stupid_ traffic camera that existed in between her apartment and Queen Consolidated and that caught her literally _every time_ she ran late), but other than that, she was a fairly upstanding citizen.

Okay, there was the hacking, but other than _that…_

And there was the gambling.

That, however, was an entire matter altogether, though, because, no matter who you asked, no one could tell you that Felicity Smoak could count cards.

“I mean, she _probably_ can,” they might tell you, “she’s _crazy_ good at probability.”

Because Felicity Smoak had created an upstanding image for herself, one that hid her nightlife quite well.

 

She’d learned how to gamble as a sophomore in high school. Felicity had been covering her mother’s shift at the casino she worked at, a few blocks away from the strip, she was working behind the bar, pretending, along with the rest of the staff, that she was legally old enough to actually serve alcohol, but no one had come over in a few hours, so she was doing some math homework, when a wealthy woman came over.

She couldn’t have been older than thirty, and was drunk out of her mind, dark hair that looked like it might’ve once been blown out tangled beyond belief. “You must be _really_ smart.” She whispered, as she leaned over the counter, making Felicity scared she might have to clean barf off of it. “You know how to gamble?”

Felicity had to admit that she did not. Sure, she’d played a few low-stakes games in her time, but she’d never actually gambled before in her life. “Pity.” The heiress pouted her maroon lips. “Smart girl like you, probably could count cards better than those cheaters over there.”

She flew her arm in the air, not-so-subtly pointing out the two men she’d walked in with. Felicity wasn’t sure whether to report the cheating to the manager or not, but decided that the casino cheated most people out of their money anyway, it was time it lost some.

The other girl narrowed her eyes conspiratorially. “You wanna learn how?” And, despite the fact that she was drunk out of her mind, she taught Felicity the basics of card-counting.

It was actually quite easy, with each card having a value, adding the values of your hand together, and then dividing by the number of decks the dealer was using.

Felicity swore she’d never try it out.

But then she heard her mother complaining to a friend when she thought her daughter was sleeping about money, and Felicity was suddenly worried that she would not be able to go to a college out of state.

And she wanted to get out of Vegas. Out of Nevada, really. Desperately.

So one day, after school, Felicity and a few of her friends got a bit dressed up to look like tourists, gathered their fake-ID’s, and went to a not-so-well-known casino.

And Felicity won.

And got money.

And used the money to pay off a bit of her mother’s expenses every month, without telling her, because colleges looked into where tuition was coming from, but casino owners didn’t look too hard into where the uniform-rental fees were coming from.

And she got good.

Too bad it went all to waste, though, because she got a full-ride scholarship to MIT anyway, and she went off to college earlier than any of her classmates.

 

Despite gambling being illegal outside of Vegas, Felicity still managed to find out about the casinos near her dorms.

Apparently, whenever anyone found out you were from Vegas, they sometimes let it slip where they learned to gamble, and where they currently did.

She was more careful here, only going out gambling when she really needed new parts for a computer, or when she heard about the road trip to Canada her friends were planning. She also invested in a few pairs of sunglasses, contacts, and a pretty expensive blonde wig, because if she was going to do something illegal without a computer screen to protect her, she wanted her identity concealed, even if she could just alter the security camera footage later.

Its how she found out she looked good as a blonde.

And then she moved to Starling City after getting a job at Queen Consolidated.

And then she discovered most of the casinos and underground gambling dens here were run by either the Russian mob or the Chinese Triad, so a double identity became even more necessary.

And so, the Oracle was born.

 

The name came from a conversation that happened with a bartender after her first month in Starling. He was trying to hint that she was cheating, and she was, she was just too good to be caught. The bartender asked her secret, and in a true non-Felicity Smoak fashion, she did not crumble under pressure, and instead teased that she could see the future.

“You’re quite the oracle, aren’t you?”

She winked at him.

For the rest of the night, she would answer to no name other than Oracle. It stuck. Here she was, three years and a secret closet full of couture dresses and dark wigs later, and the Oracle had become quite a powerful force in the gambling circuits of Central City.

She was quite the urban legend.

And no one ever suspected adorkable Felicity Smoak of being the woman who single-handedly brought down a quite prominent member of the Chinese Triad with a game of blackjack and a few keystrokes.

It was nice.

 

…

 

Oliver Queen marched, frustrated, down the metal steps of his newly-constructed club. He threw his bow on the table with a bit of force, and looked up, dark eyes filled with flame, to find the softer eyes of his partner-in-crime staring back at him.

“How bad did it go?” John Diggle asked him. “I thought they weren’t supposed to suspect your involvement.”

“They _didn’t_.”

“Then what happened?”

“We both knew it was a gamble, confronting them indirectly, with only money as an incentive.”

“ _What happened?_ ”

“The Triad showed up, stole the flash drive in the middle of the deal. I have no idea where it is now, and the problem is that _that money could be traced back to Oliver Queen._ ”

Diggle widened his eyes at that knowledge. “Usually you’re more careful than that.”

“ _Usually_ I’m not anticipating the drive to actually pass into anyone else’s hands.”

Oliver slumped into the seat in front of the few computers he had set up. _Oracle_. He thought, _the man said something about an Oracle._

Finally, he turned back around, frustrated that his search hadn’t found the location of the flash drive. “Have you heard anything on the streets about _Oracle_?” Oliver asked, “Is it some sort of new drug or something?”

“Sure,” Diggle responded, “ask the black guy if he knows about the latest drugs.”

“I just thought you might know better than me, since I haven’t touched a street drug in five years.”

“Well, I don’t.” They were both silent for a few minutes, then the older man spoke again. “You could always ask your sister.”

Oliver’s eyes darkened, but he knew it might be his best option; if anyone knew it would be her, unfortunately, or maybe her _friend_ from the Glades.

 

He does ask her.

Thea immediately objects, first because she’s insulted that he would immediately think of her when he thinks of drugs, and then because she doesn’t want _him_ to start doing drugs, because _she just got her brother back_. He gives her a pointed look at that one.

“So you’ve never heard of Oracle in your life?”

“Can’t say that I have,” she responds bitterly, “sorry, Ollie.”

“What are you guys talking about.” Thea’s friend Roy asks as he walks into the room.

Thea answers with “Oracle” at the same time that Oliver says “none of your business.”

Roy Harper’s eyes widen in what looks like fear when he hears Thea’s answer. “Look, I don’t want to get involved in whatever this is, but you shouldn’t either. The last guy who went looking for the Oracle ended up losing everything he had.”

“So you’re saying Oracle is a person, not a drug?” Thea asks.

“Are you telling me you guys have really never heard the legend of Oracle?” Roy asks, tilting his head to the side the way a dog would.

They both shake their heads, and so Roy proceeds to tell them.

“Okay, so a few years ago, this lady showed up at one of the casinos in the glades, and she started winning all of this money, and claimed it was because she could tell the future, but that’s probably just a joke or something. Anyway, one day, she’s leaving this casino, and she runs into this guy, who was part of a gang, or mob, or something; its different every time I hear it, and he was beating one of the waitresses up. He didn’t succeed, because she took off one of her heels and chucked it at his head and knocked him out. The next day, all his money is gone, not just the money she won from him, his wife has kicked him out for cheating, and he shows up at the police station still unconscious, with a file of evidence incriminating him as a member of the Russian Mob stapled to his chest. The name “Oracle” was written on it in red lipstick, and the police never found her. The police think she’s some sort of cyber-whiz.”

Thea snorts a bit. “Hear that, Ollie, looks like the vigilante that saved you doesn’t even need to help Starling City, because an _oracle_ who _tells the future_ can ruin people’s lives instead.”

“Fine. Don’t believe me.” Roy protested, throwing his arms up in mock-defeat. “Go ruin your fortune and reputation, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 _Interesting._ Is all Oliver can think. _So, he needs to find this Oracle and have a talk with her_. Meanwhile, though, he needs help tracking the lost flash drive, so he travels down to the QC IT Department.

 

Felicity Smoak greets him with a fuschia smile and a bit of sarcasm, but he’s really okay with it, because it’s kind of endearing.

“I appear to have lost a flash drive yesterday, and it has some very important documents relating to my club on it, including a few legal ones. If you could track it and find it, I would appreciate it.”

“Unfortunately for you,” she starts, pursing her lips in annoyance, “unless this magical flash drive has wifi, I don’t think I can find it. I might be able to help you find the documents from the last computer they were on.”

Immediately he knows its a bad idea. Felicity can’t get involved with this; not when the Chinese Triad and this _Oracle_ pose significant threats. She must be able to read his eyes, despite his face remaining stoic, because she comments. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone the _top secret_ details of your _nightclub_ ; I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

“I’ll think about it.” He finally responds. “If you can think of any other way I could find this flash drive, give me a call.”

She smiles. “Aye, aye, Captain.” Felicity responds, saluting him with two fingers.

He’s grinning as he walks out of her office.

 

…

 

Felicity heads out that night, for the Oracle to make her monthly appearance at a casino. She pulls a long coat over her black cocktail dress, and a scarf over her dark, curly fake hair, in case one of her neighbors see her going out. Then she heads to the north part of the Glades, to visit her favorite of all the gambling dens, The Crocus, which is also the place where the informers she’s gathered over the years, other young women who want to fight back against their mistreatment by the men who frequent these institutions, like to meet her.

She pulls the scarf off in the taxi, and tucks it into the pocket of her tan coat, before stepping out into the autumn night air.

Felicity gives the password at the entrance, and then makes her way past the poker tables and the bar, and up the stairs, to her favorite overlook.

Two girls are there to meet her.

One of them is Sin, a teenager with leather and an attitude, who’s decided she’s going to be the Oracle’s personal bodyguard, even though Felicity doesn’t really need one. The other is Jilyan, a young Taiwanese woman who she’s only spoken to a few times. Its the second of the two girls that interests her, however, because she’s holding a black flash drive in her hands.

“Found this the other day after doing a sweep up.” Felicity knows the “sweep up” was probably more of a clean up for the Triad, but doesn’t mention it. “Its slightly crushed, and I was told something had already been taken off of it, but I thought it might help, since it was found with that guy who’s been beating Syla’s friend up.” Jilyan tosses it to her, and Felicity catches it in a quick snatch.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She responds, “thank you.”

“You’re the one helping.” Jilyan smirks, before disappearing behind the curtain that separates this section of the balcony from the other few.

Felicity sends Sin a look. “I only let her in because of that,” the younger girl offers as an explanation. “You know I don’t allow just anyone up here.”

Felicity Smoak would’ve rolled her eyes and assured Sin it was okay, but Oracle knows more than a few unhappy relatives of her victims have tried to attack her at places she frequents, and this is one of them. Despite Sin’s young age, Felicity is extremely glad for her protection, since she is incredibly strong, quick-thinking, and compassionate.

She nods her head, sticks the broken flash drive in her coat pocket, and then hangs it on one of the hooks she installed up here after she won enough money to become a patron of this place. The staff only know her as Oracle, but they also know she can ruin their lives with a few keystrokes and cards, so they don’t ask for more, and most of the girls don’t want to know more, since she’s helped them out with their share of harassers, stalkers, and even rapists.

No one’s been as harshly punished as that first guy, but once she decided she wanted to make a name for herself and make a difference, she needed to start big.

Sin smiles at Felicity’s dress. “Nice duds.”

Black lace butterflies circle their way around her abdomen and up her neck, with flesh-tone fabric in only a few places to keep her decency, and a black skirt bubbles up from her small waist. She really does _love_ this dress.

To be fair, she’d probably love it more if she could wear it while blonde, but it looks just as haunting with the look she’s got going tonight: dark curls, a smokey eye, and pastel pink lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Felicity comments, nodding her head at Sin’s outfit.

She’s not wearing a dress, but tight black leather pants, and a leather jacket over a red slightly sheer top. “Eh,” Sin responds, “I’m here to protect you, not put the fear of elegance and skill into the hearts of men.”

Felicity might grin at that, but Oracle just smirks, and they both walk down to the lower level of the casino together.

 

The night goes relatively normally, with Felicity winning enough money to keep her rep, and then heading back up to her balcony to divide her winnings. Half always goes to Starling City’s women’s shelter, and the other half is always divided between the young ladies who come to her for help, with a few hundred set aside for herself.

The money she keeps for herself has been growing less and less every time, because she’s up for a promotion, and Felicity really doesn’t need a ton of money, despite her weakness for gorgeous dresses.

A few minutes after she finishes dividing the money, Sin shows up at the curtain, eyes kind of wide with fear. “Someone wants to see you.”

Felicity sighs. “Let her in.”

“Its not a her.” Sin breathes out, wincing, and Felicity opens the curtain to find Starling City’s vigilante with an arrow aimed at the younger girl’s neck.

“If you want to talk to me,” Felicity starts, her voice low. “Put the bow down.”

Surprisingly, he does as she says, but he doesn’t let go of it, still, Felicity’s not too worried. If the vigilante has decided to pay the Oracle a visit, it’s probably not to shoot an arrow through her, but it still might be.

“Wait outside.” She tells Sin, who looks reluctant to leave her, but does anyway. Then she turns to the vigilante. “Are you going to tell me I’ve failed this city now?” Felicity snaps, and then composes herself a bit, realizing that she sounds a little more like Felicity Smoak and a little less like Oracle.

“No.” The vigilante responds, his voice obviously coming through a modulator. “I’m here to ask what you know about a missing flash drive.”

 _What is up with everyone and flash drives today?_ She thinks to herself.

“I, let’s say, gambled the other night, and seem to have lost all the money I was counting on to someone. Will you help me get it back?”

“I thought you worked alone.”

“Not always.”

“Why should I help you?”

“Because I can send an arrow through that girl you have protecting you.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you blackmail isn’t the way to a lady’s heart?” She realizes she’s flirting a bit, and then that she’s flirting with the freaking vigilante, but its part of who she is as Oracle.

“Then what is?” He responds, and at first he sounds impatient, but then she realizes he might actually be flirting back, and _how screwed up is her life right now?_

“I need help getting a girl out of the Bratva without getting her or her loved ones killed, you do that for me, and I’ll get your money back for you. How does that sound, Mr. Robin Hood?”

“Deal.” He responds, and she thinks she might be able to see the hint of a smirk from under his dark hood.

She turns around for a moment, and then he’s gone. Sin comes rushing back in. “Did he hurt you?” She asks.

“No, but we might want to consider hiring another girl to help you protect me,” Felicity responds, “because it seems I have struck a deal with the vigilante.”

Sin’s eyes widen.

Felicity’s gears begin to turn as she reaches into the pocket of her coat and finds the broken flash drive. She won’t tell him about it if its his, not just yet; she wants to find out his identity first, because _no one_ gets away with threatening her girls, even if they do carry a bow.


	2. And It Was Your Heart On The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity cannot believe how frustrated the Hood makes her.  
> Oliver cannot believe he can't have feelings for someone normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its quite surprising how many of you did not see that this was a three part fic the first time around. Still, it's amazing to have all of you begging for more so soon, so I've tried my best to write a part 2 as compelling as part 1 was (although I have to admit I may have gotten a bit sidetracked by wardrobe, so be warned, there will be some links to Felicity's clothing choices below.  
> You all are amazing and I love you all and I hope this satisfies.

Felicity leaves the Orchid two nights later, exhausted, frustrated, and immensely angry. Apparently, she was not totally aware of what she had signed up for when she agreed to work with the Hood. Sure, she had expected danger and secrets and all that, but what she had _absolutely not_ expected was the vigilante’s tremendous amounts of impatience and lack of trust in her.

This is all very new to her because, despite not giving anyone any reason to trust her, she has single-handedly built up a following of girls who trusted her almost completely, and they are right to, but this vigilante barely seems to trust her only enough to come to her for help tracking down the flash drive, let alone trusting that she would even let him know if she found it.

She’s considering not letting him know if she finds it.

Especially if its the flash drive she was given right before she met the emerald-hooded vigilante.

Which brings her back to the other reason she’s frustrated, and it has to do with a specific moment that happened while they were arguing.

She was yelling, because he had suggested she send one of her ladies into the Triad to try and find out if a flash drive had been recovered, and, despite the fact that she has no reason to do that, because a lot of her  girls are high-ranking members of the Triad, the mere suggestion that she would put any of them in danger just to help someone who didn’t trust her sent her raging.

And sure, he was taller than her, looming above her seat on the plush leather couch in an obvious attempt to intimidate her, but she was not intimidated, not at all.

Maybe that was why, when it was her turn to argue back, she rose from her seat, to get into his face like he was getting into hers, [black knee-high boots](http://www.urbanog.com/Leopard-Zipper-Folded-Cuff-Knee-High-Stiletto-Boot_100_50467.html?gclid=CjwKEAjwxKSoBRCZ5oyy87DimEcSJADiWsvgbeVAKUnBxstdeTHp--fouEUVS2lSfv_DB-qYiuMWcRoCOTbw_wcB) hitting the floor with a clang as their eyes reached the same level.

She finished her statement as they reached the closest to the same height that they were going to get.

That was when she held her breath.

Because barely inches of space separated him, and she could feel his breath on her face, heavy from arguing, and if she was being Felicity Smoak in that moment, she would’ve blushed all the way down to her toes. But she was not, she was the Oracle, and so she held her ground, and he showed slightly more emotion than usual, seeming almost shocked.

And then he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, so he was the one with his back to the couch, and she was the one with her back against the wall, probably trying to regain control of a situation he had never held control over.

Blatant, threat-lined flirting was one thing, but this, this was a completely different thing entirely, a thing that made shivers run down her legs and bare back, a thing that almost left her breathless, and a thing that she obviously was totally _totally_ into.

Felicity regained control of herself almost immediately, and fought back, suggesting that _if he didn’t agree with her methods, then maybe he should work alone._

She then stormed out of her own balcony.

Sin came following quickly after, and when she finally returned, calmer, the Arrow was gone.

“I don’t like him, boss.” The younger girl commented.

“I don’t either,” Felicity responded, still thanking the heavens that she’d chosen such a dimly lit room and remembered to put in her dark contacts, because with how close they’d been standing, he could’ve figured out her identity, had the circumstances not been what they were.

“Are you going to keep working together?”

“Only if he learns to respect my methods and my girls.” She huffed out, pulling on her black coat and buckling its belt.

She left the Orchid soon after.

Now, she stands outside the Orchid, trying to hail a cab, scarf around her fake dark hair, replaying every moment in her head.

Once inside the taxi, she shakes her head at the nonsense spinning through her head. She became Oracle as a way to escape her life, and falling for someone you were working with who was probably not a good idea was already a part of her life; she didn’t need to add a second one to it.

And its probably just as well that she’s thinking of Oliver Queen, because, when she gets home, she finds a message from him on her phone, and has to let herself have butterflies, because the wig is off and the contacts are out, and she’s once again Felicity Smoak.

Felicity Smoak deserves to flail about a little bit when her super-hot mega-rich kind-of boss leaves her a voicemail, even if its just about trying to regain lost information off of a computer. She sends him a text saying she’ll be over in the morning, since it will be a Saturday, and she won’t have to come into work until two, and there’s no way she can sleep much after the night she’s just had.

Surprisingly, he replies rather quickly, even if its just a simple

_Okay._

 

…

 

Oliver doesn’t know what’s gotten into him.

He’s dealt with so many secretive, powerful, dangerous women before, even before his time on the island, so why is this one so different?

She just seemed _so familiar._

The rest of the night is fairly quiet, and he crosses three names off of the list, without having to drop their bodies. The bodies of various security guards, however, are a different matter.

Diggle notices that something’s up, but doesn’t bring it up, probably because Oliver shot him several wolf-stares whenever the conversation came close to the subject of the Oracle.

He receives an answer from Felicity Smoak at around one in the morning.

He can’t help but smiling, and he realizes he seems to be doing that a lot with her lately. Maybe its because, unlike Laurel and Tommy and his family, he doesn’t see her as a threat to his mission, and unlike everybody else, he doesn’t see her as a threat to his life.

She’s one of the only people he can really see as a person.

The first, actually, he realizes, as he remembers seeing her the time Waller sent him to Starling City. She’s been making him smile since he met her.

He gets home around five thirty, Thea sends him a glare, assuming he’s been partying all night, and his mother gives him the modified version of the disapproving stare she used to give him when he was a teenager, the one that’s become softer since he came back from the dead, the one that says she’s just glad he’s alive.

His morning would be an okay one, except the doorbell rings at seven, and Laurel Lance stands on the other side of the door. Oliver has mixed feelings about seeing her.

She, like all the women in his life right now, is here to talk business, well, as close to business as they can get with each other, which means she’s here to talk Tommy.

They go to his room, mostly because she knows the way there, and the foyer feels too big and empty to have this conversation in.

She tells him what he expected. A lot of “we thought you were dead” and “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable” and many other things he knew were coming.

For some reason, he finds himself not caring as much as he thought he might. Sure, he cares about Laurel and Tommy, and he cares that they’re happy together, but it doesn’t make his blood boil with jealousy or anything like that, which is really a shame.

Because Laurel’s always been the expected path for him, the safe one, the easy one.

Loving Laurel is like loving his mansion or the expectation for him to become CEO of Queen Consolidated. Loving Laurel means a wedding on the grounds of the Queen estate, and getting a secure job and living past thirty.

He can’t see himself doing any of those things anymore, not since the island. He can’t see himself loving Laurel like that anymore.

When he was on the island, the Laurel he dreamed about was the one who suggested they move in together, the one who was responsible and balanced him out in the ways he needed to be.

On the island he’d forgotten that she could be impulsive and angry and strive for justice just as much as he did every day, and although pre-island Oliver loved all that about her, post-island Oliver knows that the girl he’d loved on the island was just that; a dream of his own creation.

They talk for a few more hours, and he offers to go get breakfast, and, as he’s leaving his room, he runs into none other than Felicity Smoak in the hallway.

He sees her before he hits her, but she does not see him, because she accidentally barrels into him, the cup of hot coffee in her hand spilling slightly on his grey t-shirt, but somehow missing her [sleeveless floral blouse](http://www.modcloth.com/shop/blouses/strive-to-thrive-top-in-floral?kpid=117587-083-M-REG&gclid=CjwKEAjwxKSoBRCZ5oyy87DimEcSJADiWsvgRLbh1B45JuAqbJF1WEDA3sEhm6q5fUiXblt8c1cHzhoCZhnw_wcB).

“Oh-sorry!” She starts, blushing. “I didn’t see you, although now that I think about it, how could I not see you? I mean, you’re huge….” She lets the statement hang in the air, awkwardly realizing what she said, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

Oliver doesn’t realize that Laurel has appeared at his doorway until Felicity mentions it, because he’s too busy smiling at the fact that she’s wearing baby heels the same color as his hood.

“I didn’t realize you had a girl over.” Felicity mumbles, pursing her coral lips slightly.

Laurel laughs a bit at that, in a way that slightly offends Oliver, because the idea that Laurel stayed over the night before shouldn’t be that hilarious.

“Felicity, Laurel.” He introduces them, but Laurel has already grabbed her purse.

“I was just leaving.” She says as a goodbye, and then leaves them alone together in the hallway.

Oliver takes the few moments of silence to take Felicity in.

She’s so different from the other woman that’s been occupying his thoughts lately that its almost astounding.

Where the Oracle is all harsh angles and dark colors, from the [black diamond necklace](http://www.urbanog.com/Leopard-Zipper-Folded-Cuff-Knee-High-Stiletto-Boot_100_50467.html?gclid=CjwKEAjwxKSoBRCZ5oyy87DimEcSJADiWsvgbeVAKUnBxstdeTHp--fouEUVS2lSfv_DB-qYiuMWcRoCOTbw_wcB) she’d been wearing the night before to the stilletto heels of her knee-high boots, Felicity is all bright color and soft curves. The only thing they share is an affinity for form-fitting skirts, an affinity that Oliver is appreciating very much as he watches Felicity wave goodbye to Laurel, despite having only just met her.

She turns back to him, blonde ponytail swinging a bit as she does so. “So,” she starts, “you said you have a computer that may have backed up those files you lost?”

Oliver smiles at her, and then mock-bows a bit, letting her into his room, where the computer he brought from the Foundry has been resting for the past four hours. “In here.”

 

…

 

She’d picked out a [pencil skirt](http://www.thelimited.com/product/high-waist-buttoned-pencil-skirt/373244962030704.html?utm_source=Google&utm_medium=cse&utm_campaign=Google_Shopping&cid=SFC-GOOG-0002877&KPID=373244962030704&mr:referralID=de34cfec-cdb9-11e4-82f7-001b2166c2c0) that morning because tight skirts always made her feel a bit more confident, which was probably a side effect from the amount of tight skirts she wore as Oracle, but she’s not sure that it’s working at the moment.

Seeing Oliver with Laurel had put a slight damper on her morning, despite them making it clear that the lawyer had not spent the night. This wasn’t a special thing; she was just another caller in Oliver Queen’s long list of lady-friends.

That kind of sucked.

Still, though, she sat down in the chair at the desk in his room, and began to work on coding the computer, despite how distracting it was that he was leaning over her shoulder to watch.

Felicity spends the remainder of the morning at the Queen Mansion, leaned over a computer, trying to find a set of documents that not only will Oliver not let her open or examine at all, but also not know what exactly she is looking for.

The process would be frustrating, if she didn’t enjoy solving a puzzle so much, and she has two readily available to her: Oliver Queen and his puzzling missing files case.

He doesn’t like to talk, but thats okay, because Felicity fills all the empty space with her own babble, and despite the fact that she’s probably embarrassing herself half the time, she doesn’t worry too much about what she’s saying, because even when she says something ridiculous, he just gives her a tight-lipped smile.

And not one that seems fake.

One that seems to say he’s trying very hard not to smile all the way. And that makes her smile.

Her smile fades when she has to go to work at QC.

It quickly returns, however, when she looks at the [dress](https://www.unicamelrose.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=DR5531RED&gclid=CjwKEAjwxKSoBRCZ5oyy87DimEcSJADiWsvg2lx9I0AfY6whFzLF3-sPnR2KQARp-hp2xa5shU9SDhoCk2Xw_wcB) she’s chosen for Oracle to wear tonight. Like the previous one, it’s backless, but its also a deep red, with a jeweled back and a tight skirt. She absolutely loves it.

Nadya, the girl she’s trying to get the Arrow to get out of the Russian Mob, loves it too, and comments just that as the Oracle enters her chosen casino of the night.

She smiles sadly at the younger girl, wondering if the Arrow is coming back. He’s probably not, not after she yelled at him the night before.

She kind of wants him to come back, and not just to help Nadya.

Still, whether or not he still needs her help enough to come back and ask for it is not up to her, it’s up to him, and so she spends the evening making her way around the casino, and then her and Sin go to a back room to lounge and talk and divide up the money.

Nadya leaves during the process, and Sin steps out for a moment, and that is when Felicity sees a flash of green in the shadows.

“Are you going to stand there like that, or are you going to invite me in?” She asks, obviously annoyed.

The vigilante pops out of the shadows, with something that looks almost like a smirk on his face, and if she wasn’t so distracted by the fact that he was almost smiling, she might have noticed how familiar that almost-smirk was.

“What?” He asks, sounding confused, which does not mix well with his voice modulator, and, if she wasn’t Oracle right now, she might laugh.

“Nevermind that,” she plows on, trying to mask over the very Felicity-ish thing she just said.

_What is he doing to her?_

“Is there a reason that you’re here? I thought we agreed to no longer work together after you _tried to endanger one of the ladies under my protection._ ”

The vigilante mumbles something that almost sounds like an apology.

“Are you apologizing to me, or are you talking to your quiver?” She asks, not really caring about the bit of snark that sneaks in there.

“I didn’t snap at my quiver.” He responds, and she decides that him not being able to take a joke well makes her even more frustrated at him.

_But since when has she made jokes as the Oracle?_

“I tried to do this without you, but I realized that I still need your help,” he continues. “Despite our… differences, this is still a partnership and you are still my partner, if you’ll have me.”

Partners. She likes that idea. She can work with that.

“Well, I still need a free pass out of the Russian Mob for someone, so I _suppose_ our interests still align.”

She looks at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not she should let him know about the flash drive she has in her possession that may or may not belong to him.

“One of my girls _did_ mention something about a flash drive being found the other night,” Felicity reveals, “you get me the pass and its yours.”

“Deal.” The Hood responds.

“Deal.”

She obligingly turns around for a moment for him to make his shadowy exit, and then smiles to herself a bit as she pulls the nearly-destroyed flash drive out of her black coat’s pocket.

Now might just be the right time to start trying to recover what’s left on this monster.

Why she hasn’t done it sooner, she has no idea, although it could possibly have something to do with the fact that now she feels like she trusts the man in green leather, and she has even less of an idea as to why that is.

Maybe its because he has one of those faces.

That’s why she trusts Oliver Queen, after all, despite the amazing amount of lies he’s dropped on her.

The only problem with that argument, however, is that she has never actually seen the Hood’s face, so Felicity has absolutely no idea whether or not he does have one of those faces.

As she makes her way out of the underground casino with Sin to wait for a taxi, her thoughts drift back to all the Felicity-like things she’d let slip. Usually she was so good with keeping her two personas separate, even if she was talking to someone she found ridiculously attractive.

Was she admitting that she found the vigilante ridiculously attractive?

Yep, she was.

But with him, she felt the walls she’d been maintaining oh-so religiously since college start to melt whenever she looked into his eyes. And she didn’t even know what color his eyes were.

_Shit._

That realization is not her first of the night, however, because she finds herself once again wondering with wide eyes as she stares off into space.

Except this time, there’s a computer in front of her, with a beaten down, broken up flash drive plugged into it, and, despite most of the data being unsalvageable, there is a bit still left, and she recognizes it.

Because the flash drive that she’d thought belonged to the vigilante is ridden with the files that fit the blank spaces of data left on Oliver Queen’s laptop.

And Felicity is not sure exactly what that means.

 


	3. my baby fits the description (and does it easily)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret identities are not something to be handled lightly, but they just might be by people in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is now a four part fic, sorry for not updating sooner, but these two idiots just refused to talk to each other. title from the song That Man by Caro Emerald (or, as you Agent Carter fans might remember it, the song that played in the background when Peggy kicked ass in the diner)

The way Felicity sees it, this new information means one of three things. There’s the logical one, the one that says that the Triad probably wanted information on Oliver Queen, and that’s why they had his flash drive. There’s the slightly less logical one, the one that says that the Arrow wants Oliver Queen’s flash drive for some reason. And then there’s the last reason. The completely, totally, absurdly impossible reason that Felicity keeps coming back to for some reason. The one that says Oliver Queen is the Arrow.

She knows this can’t be true, because Oliver was arrested for being the Arrow only a few months ago, and had to be let go after the Arrow made an appearance while Oliver Queen was busy having an ironically themed party. She knows this can’t be true, because Oliver can barely find his way around a computer, let alone a bow and arrow.

_She resists reminding herself that they are not the same thing._

But there have been the lies upon lies, the unbelievable excuses, and he was on that island for a _really_ long time. And Felicity desperately wants to believe that all of her crazy relationship problems can be solved with one simple switch of identities.

Because if the guy she’s been slowly falling in love with every time he comes to visit her office turns out to be the same one that’s been driving her crazy by pushing her buttons and breathless by pushing her against the walls of her own hideaway and whispering in her ear then she won’t have to continue wrestling with the slowly-colliding split personalities that she’s created.

Because the Arrow makes her feel like any moment the flood of words she’s been suppressing will come tumbling out and the Oracle will babble herself into an early and blush-filled grave.

Because Oliver makes her feel like she is strong and powerful and all the things that she’d originally put the Oracle mask on to feel.

Because she feels that if she doesn’t deal with one of these situations soon, her heart might explode from all the things she’s feeling.

_God, Felicity really wants Oliver to be the Arrow._

So, she goes over the data again. Goes through all the logical conclusions again. Goes through the one illogical conclusion again, and decides she should call Oliver and let him know she has his flash drive.

This is a situation that Felicity does not really think through, because when he picks up the phone and says her name the way he always does all _Fel-i-ci-ty_ and asks her why she’s calling this late, her breath catches in her throat. And suddenly she has no idea how to explain to him that she has his flash drive because _what if he is the Arrow_ , but she does anyway, because the most logical option is the one that says he’s not.

And Oliver’s top-secret Verdant business deals are probably something he needs as soon as possible.

So, when she finally catches her breath, Felicity examines the salmon shade of her nails nervously, and blurts out “I think I found your missing flash drive.”

She can practically hear Oliver’s confused face over the phone.

 

* * *

 

He is barely back from the patrol he’d done after his meeting with the Oracle when Felicity calls, and usually he’s not this distracted, usually he pays more attention when his phone rings, but he’s so busy wondering why he just couldn’t seem to stay away from the casino boss with the mind like sharp silver. It’s only when Diggle gives him a pointed look on the sixth ring that Oliver finally drops down from the salmon ladder and pads his way over to the phone.

“I think I found your missing flash drive. Sorry for calling so late at night. I just figured you’d be up. Not that I usually think about how late you stay up. Or why you would possibly be up this late. I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m trying to insinuate something because I’m really not.” Felicity’s voice greets him as soon as he picks up, a breath of fresh air in the dark world he dives into every time he enters the foundry.

He can’t hold back the flicker of a smile. “It doesn’t. What do you need?”

“See, the thing is, I think I found your flash drive, at least, I think it’s yours, because the data seems to be a pretty close match to what I remember. Only thing is it’s pretty damaged, so I can’t retrieve anything at the moment, but I just wanted to let you know in case those club documents are still super important.”

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow and I’ll take a look at it?”

And it’s no big deal; she was there just earlier in the day, but somehow the thought of her coming over again makes his heart beat a little faster, and he knows it’s not from the salmon ladder. It really should be no big deal; she’s just coming over to work on his computer, and that’s not a euphemism this time, despite Felicity’s occasional slip-of-the-mouth

“K.” She replies, but then quickly backtracks, much to his amusement. “Is that too informal of an answer? I always feel like it is when I’m texting anyone other than my friends. But we’re friends, right? At least, it kind of feels like we are, especially since you don’t really pay me for this stuff anymore, so that at least makes us favor friends…”

Oliver chuckles a bit at her tangent, and then cuts her off with a smile. “Goodnight, Felicity. Get some sleep.”

She comes over.

He opens the door and his heartbeat only accelerates to a speed slightly higher than usual when he sees her, which he supposes is a good thing.

The skirt of her [light pink dress](http://www.google.com/url?q=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.little-mistress.com%2Fclothing-c9%2Fday-dresses-c16%2Flight-pink-sleeveless-raised-jacquard-skater-dress-p798&sa=D&sntz=1&usg=AFQjCNHP5F8Ps76A1y5IiG2VwNB3567eZQ) flutters slightly in the morning breeze as she says hello, and the slight peek of her upper thigh sends his blood rushing violently.

Oliver ignores it and invites her in, and they look at what’s on the flash drive together.

He puts his hand on her shoulder, and feels the [light denim jacket](http://www.forever21.com/product/product2.aspx?Category=Love21_Outerwear&ProductID=2049258108&VariantID=04&utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=google&utm_term=&utm_campaign=PLA_GSC_LOVE21&utm_content=g_67021404678_pla&mr:trackingCode=1A6E4C73-BCB3-E411-9253-001B21BCC0BC&mr:referralID=NA&mr:device=c&mr:adType=plaonline&mr:ad=67021404678&mr:keyword=&mr:match=&mr:filter=89213831118&gclid=Cj0KEQjwi-moBRDL4Omf9d_LndMBEiQAQtFf82PPVcWCwmQxaMmiPKV52DtZmys5aAngPl5P4PZw_9EaAtp38P8HAQ) she has on. She smells like lilacs. Felicity jumps a bit when he places it down, and turns to look back at him, blue eyes lighting up the room, and his whole world, blonde curls swinging around as she does so.

_He doesn’t know how he could’ve ever thought she was the Oracle._

Felicity is the complete opposite of the other girl he’s been meeting regularly for the past few weeks. The evidence only needs to be seen in appearance.

Dark, tight dresses with adorning gemstones contrast apparently with the light, airy, professional clothing Felicity wears.

And then there’s the ambiance. Felicity babbles on with wide eyes full of love and laughter, while the Oracle chooses her words carefully, and stares into him with dark eyes that indicate that the world is as dark if not darker than Oliver knows. Felicity carries herself with awkward, tentative steps in low heels and panda flats. The Oracle struts around the casinos she frequents with confidence and a killer smile in heels high enough to add at least four extra inches.

But they are the same height. And they both look at him like they can see right through him. And there is the matter of the flash drive. How odd that the same night the Oracle finds what he’s looking for, Felicity does too.

And he trusts her, implicitly, but he can’t take the chance that the thoughts in the back of his mind are right, because, if they are, then the Oracle is going to come to him tonight with this exact flash drive and try to give it to the vigilante. He can’t take the chance that she is more than she seems. He can’t take the chance that he’s wrong about her.

So he puts his hand on her shoulder and she turns around to look at him with a look on her face that lights his soul on fire and he lies straight in her face.

“Felicity, this isn’t mine.”

The expression on her face as he softly lets the lie out is one of utter befuddlement, because it’s so _obviously_ his, and he knows this _without_ the knowledge that Felicity has, but this is a precaution, he needs to make sure he can trust her.

At least that’s what he tells himself.

He doesn’t tell himself that it’s really because he is overcome by the insatiable curiosity that the Oracle has filled him with. He _wants_ to know if she is Felicity. He _wants_ to know how such light and such darkness can exist in the same person without it breaking them entirely. How the darkness does not snuff out the light.

He convinces her, somehow, that her obvious answer to his problems is a dead end and she gives him that look she always gives him when she knows he’s lying, but says she’s going anyway, and, as they walk through the hallways, he thinks he could kiss her.

It would be easy. So easy to just dip his head down and cradle her head in his hands. So easy to push her against the wall and let all her accidental innuendos and the glances they’ve given each other when both of them thought the other one wasn’t looking pay off. And, if he was just Oliver Queen, and not the Arrow as well, he would do it. He would do it and it would be fine and he can picture it as they talk and…

Felicity’s face quickly forms into the Oracle’s in his mind.

Which is ridiculous, because he has never actually fully seen the Oracle’s face, but the two of them have mixed in his mind, and his Oliver Queen person has mixed with the Hood’s, and all four personalities flicker back and forth in his mind. The image of Felicity kissing him in his green leather is a particularly poignant one that he can’t seem to let go of because, while the image of the Oracle kissing Oliver Queen just reminds him of his playboy days and the image of the Oracle kissing the Hood is a painful memory of Helena, this specific one feels different, destined somehow.

Yet another reason that he needs to lie to her.

Because he can’t fathom bringing Felicity Smoak into his life, he can’t corrupt the light of sun that she is, he can’t let his darkness snuff her light out. But he could. He could if he knew he couldn’t. If he knew she had a way to control the darkness. If he knew she was the Oracle.

But she can’t be. That is abundantly clear in the smile she shoots over her shoulder as she leaves the grounds. Clear in the way she’s dressed in almost all pastels and it reflects the sunlight from her like she’s a diamond in the sun.

She can’t be the Oracle.

She just can’t be.

 

* * *

 

Oliver didn’t take the flash drive. And Felicity is shocked beyond belief, but it gives her an opportunity to figure out the knot of questions that has been building in her stomach since she first saw that the flash drive was a match. An opportunity to see once and for all whether or not Oliver is the guy in green leather who she’s been meeting every night for weeks.

Because she was planning to hand it over to the Hood anyway before she’d plugged it into her computer, and now that her suspicious have only risen, she’s absolutely dying to. And not just to hand it over. She’s dying to see him.

She’s dying to take a closer look at the cheekbones hidden under the hood to see if they match to the ones she knows from every time he smiles at her. She’s dying to observe if the curve of the vigilante’s arms is the same as the curve of Oliver’s. She’s dying to know if the breath she felt heavy on her neck that one time is the same as the one that huffs out a bit of a laugh every time she goes on one of her tangents.

Because it could work.

And she knows she’s not paying attention to the fact that, if she hands the flash drive over to the vigilante and he _is_ Oliver Queen, she’d be revealing herself as the Oracle. Knows that life is so much less simple than she’s making it out to be; that two identity reveals do not make a happily ever after. That things could end up becoming so much more complicated and emotion-ridden. But she’s trying not to care.

And when she spies a [pair of pumps ](http://www.google.com/url?q=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2FBadgley-Mischka-Womens-Open-Toe-Emerald%2Fproduct-reviews%2FB00CBL1TNS&sa=D&sntz=1&usg=AFQjCNHInBkqaziedcKPdGVl-YYZxBb3mw)the exact same color as his leather, she can’t resist putting them on for the night as Oracle. And she can’t pretend that she doesn’t hope it’ll stir some impulse inside him. That maybe, even as she takes off the wig she has straightened to silky perfection tonight, the shoes will pull everything together. That he won’t see the Oracle in one moment and Felicity in a black dress the next.

And[ the dress](http://www.google.com/url?q=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.dhgate.com%2Fstore%2Fproduct%2F2014-janique-black-evening-gowns-peplum-high%2F182029614.html&sa=D&sntz=1&usg=AFQjCNEiPNb75927kX94ZdJqiwbjDZngug). She loves the dress. All black lace and a silk bodice with a peplum and a long black skirt. All angles and darkness and it’s something she knows looks fantastic with both the blonde hair and the dark hair. Something she’s been dying to wear to an event but it’s too elaborate for Felicity Smoak, so she’s been saving it for a special occasion as the Oracle. Another showdown with the Triad, perhaps. But this seems like it will do as well.

Felicity looks in the mirror, smoothing down the silk of her skirt, a nervous tick that only Felicity Smoak has and the Oracle does not. It looks weird with the wig on, but the lines have been blurred ever since the vigilante came into her life anyway. She’s been walking a wire between her two identities for so long and he’s the first person to ever make her look down and realize that maybe she’s too high up. Maybe she’s too far in. Maybe the wire should be come a bridge. Because there’s no way she’s giving up one or the other. But having someone, anyone know. _Having him know._ That may just save her.

The Oracle shoots a queenly look into the mirror, examining herself before wrapping a scarf around her head and a coat around her dress and getting into the cab that will take her to the Orchid.

Sin is waiting for her. A rare smile on her face. “Hood’s in there. I think he has Nadya’s pass.” Once again, Felicity is reminded why she keeps Sin so close to her; the girl has a natural empathy for everyone, but tries very hard to hide it with her tough exterior. She’s so excited for Nadya to move on to a better life that she has foregone her usual dislike of the vigilante.

“Good.” Felicity replies, hoping the vacantly elite expression on her face hides the fact that, for the first time, she is nervous about meeting with the man in green who may-or-may-not be Oliver Queen. “Send him up to the roof. I’m feeling like some night air.”

Sin looks annoyed at the request, but obliges anyway, sticking her head in through the curtains and yelling something, before accompanying Felicity up to the roof. She stands guard at the door to the roof while Felicity waits in the night air, observing the absurdly calming view of the city - _her city_.

Then she hears a pair of boots land on the pavement behind her and can see a flash of green out of the corner of her eye. But she doesn’t turn around. She needs to do this without facing him, because she’s scared of the electricity circling between them, scared one look will strike her with lightning and set both of them on fire. She’s not ready for that quite just let.

Still, Felicity looks over her shoulder, letting the dark waterfall of hair fall over her shoulder as she does so. Just enough to talk to him without actually looking at him.

“I have the flash drive, if you have the pass.” She barely breathes out, but she knows he hears her anyway.

“It’s not easy to acquire one of these.” He warns her, but his tone seems reminiscent of teasing. And she can pinpoint the parts of his voice that sound like Oliver’s even with the modulator. The sure, slow speed he talks, like every word is an official statement. The way his tongue curls around the consonants. She tries hard not to think about his tongue.

“It wasn’t easy to acquire this, either.” She replies in a cool tone as she holds up the red flash drive in her left hand for him to see. Metallic nails reflecting the city skyline.

And then he’s behind her. Not totally. But she can feel the heat emanating off his body. Smell the warm leather and sweat. She can’t touch him, but she can feel him there. And the situation parallels the time they were against the wall too much for her not to feel sparks.

He tries to pluck the flashdrive out of her hands, but she swerves it out of his way, teasingly, and he doesn’t try again, just lets out a small huff of laughter.

“You’re surprisingly lighthearted tonight.” He murmurs and her skins is practically set on fire

“I’m sorry, it’s just, when I’m with you,” she breathes out in explanation, finding herself unable to control the stream of unfiltered words coming from her mouth; a problem she has never had as the Oracle, “it’s like I can’t separate myself from the Oracle.”

“I know how you feel.” the Hood responds and Felicity finds herself once again breathless at the thought that she’s not the only one plagued by an existential crisis brought about by falling in love. “I think they would like each other.” She knows he’s talking about their alter egos, and wonders how he can’t know that they do like each other, how he can’t know what she knows about her feelings both for him and for Oliver Queen.

“Maybe they do. Maybe they know each other.” She hints, and she hears his breath catches in his chest because maybe he knows. Or maybe he suspects. And maybe all the confirmation necessary will happen when he takes a closer look at the flash drive in her hand.

And then she lets him pluck it from her fingers.

He recognizes it immediately, and that’s all the confirmation she needs.

“Where did you find this?” His voice is protective and angry, and Felicity knows it’s because he recognizes it but hasn’t quite put the puzzle pieces together yet, knows it’s because he’s trying to protect her from her, and that’s so weird yet so sweet.

“I don’t reveal my sources.” She tells him.

“ _Where did you find this?_ ” He repeats again, angrier this time.

“One of my girls found it a few days ago.”

“ _You’re lying.”_

“Why would I lie?” She shoots back. “I have had this flash drive on my person since then.”

“ _No you haven’t_.”

“ _Yes I have.”_

“I _saw_ that flash drive earlier today with someone else.”

“And just how, Mr. Queen, do you know that I’m _not_ that someone else?”

“How do you know my name?” He growls, and she knows it’s him. Knows the Hood is Oliver Queen and everything makes sense. And now is the best time, the only time, for her to reveal herself as well because apparently she’s kept her identities so separate that he still doesn’t understand that it’s her.

So finally, rashly, she turns around. “Because you know my name.” Felicity punctuates as she pulls the headscarf off so it no longer sits low on her face like his hood and then the wig goes too and then his hood comes off too.

They stare at each other for seconds, maybe minutes, and she knows they must’ve both had their suspicions, but having it confirmed, having it confirmed is so much worse than she’d imagined it would be.

Because he’s _killed_ people. And not in the way she has, not in the way that she’s ruined lives to the point where people commit suicide, not in the way that it happened when she once pushed a guy off of a girl and he ran into a pike. No, he shoots people with a bow and arrow, and he’s ruthless about it.

And the way he’s looking at her. Like he’s just unleashed something dangerous on the world. Like her lying to him is so much worse than him lying to her even though she knows it’s not. Because he never asked. He never asked anything that would’ve caused her to lie to him. She isn’t the one who gives him unbelievable lies.

That’s all him.

“No.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he finally regains use of it. “No, no, no! Felicity!” He shouts, walking away from her.

“No, what, Oliver?” She shoots back, more Oracle than Felicity in the moment.

“You can’t be doing this, Felicity; _it’s dangerous._ ”

“I _can_ be doing this, Oliver. And _have been_. For years and years before you came back from the island. Believe it or not, I was protecting this city _long_ before you were, so you do not get to just tell me to stop. That is _not_ how it works, Oliver.”

“You’re going to _get yourself killed._ ”

She laughs bitterly. “And you’re not?”

“ _I_ can handle myself.”

“ _I’ve_ been doing fine for longer than you have. _I’m_ not the one jumping off rooftops every night. _I’m_ not the one who is probably going to have to have knee surgery before she’s thirty-five because of her rough landings. What are you trying to do? Fracture your kneecap? It’s like you don’t have any concern for for your own safety at all. I bet you don’t even have someone to patch you up. Oh, wait, no, scratch that, Mr. Diggle is _definitely_ in on all this, and you two are so painfully obvious that it actually kills me, in my soul.”

“ _Felicity_.” He growls, his voice once again taking on that protective tone it had occupied before her reveal.

And then she gets angry. “No, _no_ , you are not allowed to do that. You can’t just say my name and get me to do whatever you say. Not this time. This is _my_ life, and it’s _my_ choice, and if you don’t agree with that, _Mr. Queen_ , I suggest you stay far, far away from the IT department and the Orchid. Now, if I were you, I’d put your hood back up and get off of my roof before I make you.”

Surprisingly, he does as she asks, and disappears into the night.

And that’s when the emotions hit her.

Because apparently she continued playing the part of the Oracle even after she took her wig off. Her immense disappointment at how the night had gone fills her to the brim, and she tries not to let her quickly-watering eyes look out into the night to see if maybe he’s still looking out for her as she puts the wig and scarf back on.

And then she goes down the stairs, to the balcony.

Felicity doesn’t really feel like gambling tonight.

“You okay, boss?” Sin asks her when she clicks her way down the stairs, and Felicity is tempted to lie again, say she’s fine, reaffirm the belief her girls have that the Oracle is an impenetrable warrior who is never moved. But she can’t. The lines between Felicity Smoak and the Oracle have been far too blurred for her to ever go back to the way she was before this whole thing started. And, well, if she’s being honest, she could use a friend. “Did you get the pass?”

Felicity panics for a second, thinking that maybe she forgot to get it from him, but she finds it in the pocket of her jacket, where he must’ve slipped it when he’d gotten so close behind her. She whips it out with a flourish and hands it to Nadya, who then practically bounces all the way down the stairs, her black leather boots echoing as she goes.

It’s then that Felicity turns to Sin. “We’re friends, right?”

“I like to think so.”

“Would you like to meet the woman behind the mask?”

Sin’s eyes widen in disbelief and Felicity feels like she may need to clarify a little. “I mean, only if you want. It’s just, something happened, and I just need someone to know me. Both of me.”

The younger girl chuckles. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at once, boss.”

For the second time that night, Felicity pulls off the wig and the scarf, revealing a head of blonde curls.

“Call me Felicity.”

“Sure thing, blondie.”

And, although she doesn’t know how, Felicity manages a smile. The first real one she’s had since she first entered this building.

 


End file.
